I Was Made to Love You
by HeiHeiTstesetyun
Summary: Inspired by Stevie Wonder's "I Was Made to Love Her." Fate leads young Alexianos and Sadik to the magnolia tree. Friendship enables them to keep coming back. Over the years, the two men dip their feet in the dating pool, study assiduously at Northwestern University, and eventually grow to cherish one-another. Sweet, fluffy ArmeniaXTurkey. It's long, but I promise it's worth it! :


I Was Made to Love Him

I remember the first time I visited the tree.

Sure, there were plenty of trees similar to it, with fragrant blossoms and rose-colored bark, but this one was like no other. It stood- and still stands- tall and proud along the outskirt of a meadow; lush, verdant grass growing around it and a cerulean spring sky overhead. Its fat trunk had a single etching- the deeply engraved outline of a heart. I had never seen anything like it- the flat green grounds of northern Illinois were nothing like the rocky, majestic mountains of Armenia; the sweet magnolia tree was nothing like the earthy poplars and cedars.

And still, I loved it. I urged my twin sister to go on walks with me to the magnolia tree- we climbed its study branches and tanned our olive skin in the sun that filtered through the leaves and flower buds. Our dark hair caught the light and turned a lighter shade of brown. Our jeans were stained with grass and dirt.

At just seven years old, it had become a cornerstone in my life.

I quickly integrated into American culture. I learned English at school, watched Spongebob and That's So Raven on TV, and traded Pokemon cards with my classmates. I still preferred chicken khorovatz to hamburgers and tea to soda; I still went to the Armenian Apostolic Church in nearby Chicago every Sunday and played the duduk; but I adjusted well to my new life and had made a small group of solid friends within the first year.

The years passed quickly, the mark of a happy childhood, and soon I entered high school, where I found that I needed to shave my jaw and devote myself seriously to my studies. My sister and I maintained a close friendship, as twins sometimes do, and we enjoyed the same co-ed group of friends. My summer going into twelth grade, life was good. I'd maintained a 4.3 average (I'd excelled in science, history, and English but had difficulties with math) in my GPA and took AP and honors courses. I was appointed the public relations official for my school's UNICEF club and tutored, both for charity and pay. I played the flute in band. However, one aspect of my busy life concerned my friends and family:

I'd never dated before.

It wasn't that I didn't like girls- as friends, I loved them. My female friends laughed a lot, listened to my concerns, and kept up good conversations. However, try as I did, I could never find myself attracted to any of them. I really couldn't see myself having a future with a woman; romance wasn't important to me. What's more, I found myself turned-on by my male friends (though I'd never admit it) and even considered from time to time the idea of simply living with a man in the future. However, I was ashamed by these thoughts and never admitted them to anyone I knew, believing it was simply a phase that I'd grow out and I simply hadn't met the right girl yet.

My sister knew, though. She didn't look down on me for it- in fact, she seemed a little _too_ excited, always pointing out the guys that she thought were cute and asking me for my opinion on them. I remember blushing, claiming that I had none. This was usually a lie.

In high school, I would continue my walks to the magnolia tree daily, brining my iPod along to amuse myself along the way. My friends and I would camp underneath it at night during the summer and eat barbecue and s'mores and thrill ourselves with taboo conversations. Despite being generally clean-cut kids, the lot of us shared bottles of Absolut underneath the dangling leaves and vowed never to drink again after suffering the morning-after hangovers. One friend even lost his virginity underneath the tree to his long-time girlfriend. She later moved away, and none of us heard from her again.

One night in the middle of June, I rushed over to the tree. I was angry and embarrassed- my parents had set me up on a blind "dinner date" with a girl my age from Chicago, and the entire meal had been nothing but ridicule for me. I didn't want to date- I was happy being a single seventeen-year-old that had his music, his studies, and his tree. Why did I need anything else?

To my surprise, the dark silhouette of a tall man rested underneath the sturdy limbs. He glanced up at me as I walked to the other side of the trunk (I was too upset for words) and glanced back at his flashlight-illuminated book. He was reading a historical text from what I assumed was his college.

Deciding that it wouldn't do to dwell on my situation, I turned toward the man.

"Hi, I'm Alexianos. How are you?"

He looked back at me, a curious expression on his face. "Hi, I'm Sadik. I'm all right- I could be better. Thanks though. Are you okay?"

"No," I answered honestly, but smiled nonetheless, "but I'll be all right. Is there something wrong?"

He frowned. "Yeah. I just got broken up with, and what's worse, I can't go home to Los Angeles to visit my family this summer because I got a job up here. I'm happy I got the job, but I didn't know I would start this soon…"

"Wow. That's terrible, I'm sorry." I gulped thickly, feeling bad for Sadik's predicament. As upset as I was with my parents, it would be awful to spend a summer away from them.

He sighed. "Nah, don't worry about it… What about you? What happened?"

"My parents set me up on this blind date because I've never been in a relationship before. I know that's weird, because I'm seventeen, but I'm so busy with everything else I do and I'm just not interested in being with anybody. It was so awkward; the date just happened tonight. And the worst part is, I feel like I'm letting them down for being so…well, weird."

"I know that feeling. You aren't letting them down by being different, though. They're just doing what they think will make you happiest, but sadly, parents don't always know what's best."

"Yeah, I know they're just looking out for me, but it's hard. I feel like there's something wrong with me, for not wanting to flirt with girls or go out…"

"Don't worry- you're just fine. Um, Alex…are you gay?"

I widened my eyes, shocked. "No…I'm not."

"Sorry, didn't mean to offend you. The reason I ask is because I am, but of course, not being interested in girls in high school is pretty normal. There are guys at Northwestern that are just like you."

"Oh…" I blushed, hoping that I hadn't offended Sadik in turn. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, because I barely even know you, but I actually have fantasized about being with a guy. I even had a mild crush on one of my friends, though I never did anything about it because he's straight. I just figured it was a phase I'd grow out of; that I hadn't met the right woman yet."

"That's a hard one." He pondered this for a moment. "I think that's something only you can decide for yourself- if you want to wait to find the right woman, or if you do like guys. Are you scared of telling your parents?"

I nodded. "Shitless. I was born in Armenia- I don't think I've ever even heard my parents talk about gay people."

Now it was his turn to widen his eyes. "Oh- I'm sorry; I know the feeling. My parents are from Turkey- you can imagine how afraid I was to tell them. They were surprisingly cool with it, though. At first they thought 'You just need to date a woman first,' but after a month they got used to the idea. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, at least in my experience."

I smiled at him. "Thank you for the advice, Sadik. I really appreciate it. Um…what is it like to date a guy?"

"Well, I've only actually dated one guy. We went out for four months, so it wasn't very serious, but it's nice. You sometimes have to be creative with dates and, in my experience, it's easier to go out to private places, but I have no complaints."

"Ah…okay. So, you go to Northwestern? Congratulations."

"Thank you. I'm going into my sophomore year, and it's been a lot of fun so far. I'm thinking of majoring in history, but I also want to minor in music."

"What instruments do you play?" I sat up, interested. I loved talking about music.

"I play string bass and piano. You play, as well?"

I nodded. "Guitar and flute- I'm actually a flautist for my school's band."

"Very nice. I was in band in high school, with bass. You seem really cool, Alex. Do you go to this tree often?"

Cool was a word that I was unfamiliar with. People called me different things- my friends thought I was "interesting," "funny," and "quirky," others thought I was "shy," "smart," and "quiet," (the ones that called me quiet really didn't know me at all) while still others thought I was "strange" and "weird." I'd heard my parents talk with trepidation about the Turks that bordered our home country before, but Sadik was nice.

"Thanks. You seem really cool, too. Um, with this tree- yeah, my friends and sister and I go here a lot. We camp here, go on walks here- it's a bit of a meeting center for us. In fact, my parents probably think I'm camping out right now. Usually a few friends show up every night in the summer, but tonight must be dead…" I looked up at him, noticing that he had green eyes. I liked green eyes. "How about you?"

"I needed a place to think, so I drove until I found a nice park. I always loved the smell of magnolia trees, so I sat under this. I tried reading a history book to get my mind off things."

"What's your book about?" I asked eagerly.

"It's about ancient Babylon. It's admittedly a really interesting book, but I just can't focus."

"Wow…would you mind telling me the title?"

Sadik stared at me in shock. "You're in high school?"

I smiled modestly. "I really like history."

"Okay," he laughed. "And yeah, history's the best. I'd love to be a teacher of it, maybe for high school. American history is my favorite, but I'm also really into Near Eastern and Ancient. You like history?"

"Yeah, I do, but I think my favorite subject is chemistry. I'll be taking AP chemistry next year, as I've already taken honors, so I'll see how that goes."

"Ah, so you're an AP kid. That alone explains why you're a little different. So you're thinking of college?"

"I really like Northwestern and University of Chicago, and I'm not sure which one I like better."

He laughed. "Well, my money's on Northwestern. It's in a way better area."

"That's true! So, you're from Los Angeles, huh?"

"Just outside of it. You wanna know where I grew up?"

"Where?"

"Burbank."

I cracked up. "No way! You're serious?"

"Yeah…some people weren't too fond of me."

I could imagine, though I felt bad that he had to suffer prejudice. "Aw, that's no good."

"Nah, no worries. I say some, but certainly not everybody. There were lots of nice people, too. But Chicago is like nothing else…"

"It really is," I agreed, smiling fondly. I loved living near the city. "The countryside in Illinois is beautiful, too."

"It really is. In SoCal, we become sort-of snobby about our beaches, but nothing beats Lake Michigan."

We continued talking until it was three in the morning, when Sadik began to doze off from exhaustion. I took his hand in mine, trying to wake him up. His hands were soft, save for the callouses on his left one due to countless hours of note-taking. He murmured that he didn't mind falling asleep in the grass, and so I lied out next to him and closed my eyes.

…

Sadik left me a note the next morning, claiming that he had to go to work, but that he'd like to become friends. He left his phone number and facebook information, along with his skype screen-name. I checked my cell phone while entering in the data- my mom had texted me, asking if I'd gone to the tree. I felt bad, realizing that I hadn't responded to her the night before, and apologized while claiming that I'd met up with a friend and forgot to text back. It wasn't exactly a lie.

Within fifteen minutes, Hovanush (my sister) found me and asked me to come home with her. She also chided me for lying to our mom- she knew well that none of our friends had gone to the tree last night, though she kept our parents ignorant of the fact out of loyalty to me. I thanked her.

"I wasn't alone, Hova," I told her in earnest, showing her the note. "Look. I made a friend."

"Sadik Adnan," she read, her jaw dropping low enough to catch flies. "Oh my God, Alex."

I blushed, prepared to hear cautions against befriending a Turk. My sister, however, surprised me.

"You met a boy!" She squealed, clutching my hand in hers. "Tell me everything! What is he like? Oh, I bet he's handsome!"

"He's…nice," I admitted, breathing a sigh of relief. She may have misunderstood my intentions- I only wanted to be friends with Sadik- but at least she wasn't worried for my sake."He's going into his sophomore year at Northwestern. He wants to be a history major. But I'm not interested in him."

"Ooh, an older boy, huh? Okay, what does he look like?" She completely ignored my last comment, winking at me. Oh, Lord…

"Well…I couldn't see him very well in the dark, but he had green eyes and dark brown hair. He was somewhat tan, somewhat pale- sort of like our skin- and he's tall. Very tall; probably six feet. Does that satisfy you, inquirer?" I teased, grinning at my sister. She rolled her eyes.

"Be nice to me. I'm intent on keeping your Turkish lover a secret from mom and dad."

"He's _not_ my lover, Hova!" My face flushed with embarrassment. "I just met him last night."

"So he _is_ Turkish, then! Well, Alex, you really have a thing for forbidden love, don't you?"

"Hova, I don't like him. I'm embarrassed that you'd even think that."

"Then why did this guy leave three ways for you to contact him? He was really covering his bases there. Don't tell me you're set to leave him hanging!"

"I'm not. I just want to be friends. You know, the kind of friends that don't have gay sex in the meadow."

"Simply the fact that you're put thought into the idea of having sex with him proves something." She smirked, feeling she'd effectively won this argument. I sighed, smiling lightly.

"You're so strange."

"You're not denying anything!"

…

For the rest of the day, Hova grilled me for details. _What does he smell like? Does he have a nice voice? Is he Christian? Does he acknowledge the genocide? What is his fashion sense like? (Like a person. I don't know. No. I didn't ask. He wore a blue plaid shirt and black jeans.)_ Exhausted from the interrogation, I decided to simply show her his facebook.

"Wow," she mused, impressed. "He _is_ handsome. Too bad he's gay, or I'd…never mind. Good for you, Alex!"

For the rest of the summer, I chatted with Sadik on occasion. We talked nearly every day- some people might have found our age gap weird simply because we were at different places in our lives, but he never treated me like I was still a high school student. Twice we met up in Chicago to chat about history or our friends or music or parrot mating rituals and drink strong coffee. The second time I visited him, Hova came with me, and by the end of the meeting I had her earnest approval. Not that there was anything more than a friendship to approve of, and that's just the way we liked it.

We also met under the magnolia tree on occasion- sometimes with my friends and his (who got along surprisingly well), and sometimes by ourselves. Admittedly, I preferred it best when it was just the two of us. Some nights, we would talk for hours about anything and everything. Some nights, we would barely speak at all and simply listen to the breeze whispering in the short, vibrant grass. We would show each other new music, and sometimes we'd bring our instruments and play every song we knew. We'd sing, too- he had one of the best voices I'd ever heard. We'd talk about politics and religion and humanitarianism and civil rights. It's surprising, being of different creeds, how similar our views were. Sadik excitedly noted that in the 2012 November election, he would vote for President Barack Obama. We also had base discussions- we talked about celebrities and COD and the latest Sascha Baron Cohen movie.

The summer ended too quickly, a testament to how wonderful it was, and with the school year's return Sadik and I were busier than ever. We still made time to talk, though- we'd have a skype call every Sunday. It was usually the highlight of my week. Still, I couldn't spend much time talking to him- I had college essays to write and UNICEF events to coordinate and exams to study for and people to tutor. However, I did get the occasional weekend off to visit him in Chicago or have him come over to my house (my parents, despite their upbringing, found him "charming") for dinner or to sit with him under the magnolia tree. By winter, when it was too cold and snowy to stay outdoors for long, we were best friends. We spent our break chatting about the colleges that I wanted to get accepted into and how much he loved being a part of his college's LGBTSA and UNICEF clubs and what slopes we wanted to go skiing or sledding on. We had impromptu snowball fights and drank hot chocolate and coffee, and my parents started referring to him as their "third child."

This wasn't to say that I ignored my other friends- I was still going strong with them. I still went to all of band's competitions and festivals and sectionals and afterparties with Tino, Eduard, and Elizaveta; I still played Assassin's Creed with Eileen and Heracles and Hova. We all still met at our magnolia tree and hoped and wished and lamented our worries about college and our futures. But Sadik had become somewhat of an addition to our group, and through him I made new friends as well- Gupta, a biochemistry major; Yekaterina, a law student; Arthur, who studied literature; and Amelia, who had gone to community college and started a successful career as a self-managed musician. I'd also met Sadik's ex-boyfriend, who he was still fairly close with: a nice, quiet mathematics major named Kiku that Hova took a liking to.

Come spring, I had an important decision to make: I was accepted into UCLA, University of Chicago, Notre Dame, and Northwestern. I had gotten scholarships based on my merit (I'd earned a GPA of 4.6 fall semester of my senior year) and my charity work, both at Uni of Chi and NW. After touring Northwestern's campus countless times, I knew it was the school for me. However, Hova had decided on UCLA, and I was reluctant to be so far away from my twin. She insisted, though, that I go where I wanted to, and that it would be a crime not to go to Northwestern after earning a scholarship for it. I had to agree.

Tino and Eileen were accepted at Northwestern, as well, much to my excitement. It was rare to have so many students from one high school go there, and even more rare that they all be friends. This was doubly exciting, as the two of them began to see one-another as more than friends, and I rooted for their relationship to continue through the years. Plus, it would be great to get to see Sadik more often; he was elated with my acceptance and threw my friends and I a party to celebrate our induction into Northwestern.

Come my graduation in May, Sadik was the same man I knew with a slightly different countenance. His skin glowed, due to the fact that he combatted his insomnia, and his voice had taken on a deeper, more melodious tone. Even I wasn't ashamed to admit that I found him handsome, though I still only saw him as a close friend. He came to Hova's and my graduation ceremony along with my parents and relatives from Armenia- he won all of them over within an hour.

The night after I received my high school diploma, my friends and I all had a celebration by the magnolia tree. We didn't worry- though the surrounding lawn was maintained by the city, it was an old campground instated in the sixties that anybody with a permit could sleep on. The meadow-park was surrounded by tall trees and bushes and bordered by a lake on the other side, so few others besides us ever thought to visit it. It was one of the best-kept secrets of the town, and it was far away from the suburban lots.

Our party was relatively innocent- the lot of us drank Red Bull and read fan-fiction in ridiculous voices. By that time, I had told all my friends that I was into men, though I hadn't yet had serious feelings for any. Thankfully, they were understanding and my male friends weren't bothered by my confession. Of course, my orientation and lackluster dating life somehow intrigued my friends greatly, and while the lot of us ate French fries and pastrami, they grilled me on whether I'd had a crush on anyone yet.

"Nothing I could really call a crush," I admitted, popping a fry into my mouth. "I pretty much dated my AP Calculus study guide, though…"

My friends chuckled and teased me lovingly before the next question was put forth.

"Assume all the girls in this group are guys- who would you date out of this circle, solely based on personality. I'm excluded!" My sister inquired, hyped up on sugary energy drinks.

I didn't really know the answer to this question, as I'd never considered anybody in the group. Still, thinking rationally, I realized that I wouldn't mind choosing Sadik. We didn't have any "chemistry," which was why I'd never thought of him like that, but he was one of the most genuinely nice people I knew. I always had a great time with him.

"Well, this is weird to answer…but Sadik? I guess…"

He raised his Red Bull cheerfully. "Good choice, I assure you," he joked, grinning facetiously. My friends murmured, considering the possibility, and my face felt paralyzed with embarrassment. I quickly changed the subject to the topic of Elizaveta and Eduard's relationship.

…

The summer going into college was even more wonderful than the last. I spent every waking minute with my friends, going on day trips and relaxing. Sadik went home to California to visit his family, and he and his sister Skype called me every few days. His sister, Serpil, went to UCLA and quickly befriended Hova and Heracles, who were both going there as well. Before the end of the summer, my Greek friend and she were going out.

However, I was relieved to start my semester at Northwestern. I had so much freedom! I could study whatever I wanted- music, history, science, and no math! I befriended my dormmate (Yosuf, an exchange student from Iran) and got involved with the campus' UNICEF chapter. I didn't play in the symphonic band, but I did take music courses and absolutely loved them. I met new people in my courses, but Sadik remained my dearest friend. Going to the same university made us much closer- we ate most of our meals together in the dining hall, we went to many of the school-hosted concerts and performances, and we spent our weekends either out on the town or at my parents' house. We visited our magnolia tree from time to time, enjoying the beautiful nature that never grew old and the fond memories and the newfound freedom. It was really only the two of us that went there anymore.

"I think it was fate that I drove there," Sadik confessed. "How else would I have found such an off-the-beaten-path lot?" I agreed wholeheartedly.

I went on a few dates that year- I'd even found myself hopeful for a future with one guy- but none of them panned out in the end. I didn't mind. I was now beginning to dream of a future with someone- a future with love and commitment. It felt nice.

Sadik and Arthur dated for a few months that year. I couldn't put my finger on why, but something made me feel uncomfortable around the both of them during that time. Perhaps I was a bit jealous- Sadik was my best friend, and I didn't want to lose my status as his. Still, I supported their relationship, because Arthur seemed to make Sadik happy.

Too bad 'Artie' cheated on him with Francis.

They broke up in November, and Sadik was miserable up until finals. He'd lost his appetite (even though it was Ramadan, he didn't feel hungry at night, when he was supposed to break his fast) and spent all of his time studying. He barely talked to anybody but me, and he often felt sick in the morning.

He stayed with my family over winter break, though, and so he hid his misery. My parents, in traditional Armenian fashion, insisted that he eat three solid meals and two snacks a day (plus dessert); he graciously shoveled down as much food as he could stomach, not wanting to be impolite.

Though Sadik didn't celebrate Christmas, he was excited to learn about a different religion and bought gifts for my parents, Hova, and I. He helped my mom and I cook the ham and turkey (we didn't trust Hova or my dad in the kitchen) and he went to midnight mass with us. I was touched by how excited he was to take part in one of my traditions and vowed to fast with him for a day next year during Ramadan.

"You guys have really cheered me up," Sadik confessed, sitting in our family's guest bedroom after a gluttonous Christmas meal. "Maybe it's all the food, too…but seriously, thank you."

"It's not a problem." I smiled, patting his back. "I'm glad to see you happy, again. The state of the world is in trouble when you're sad."

He laughed. "Well, I appreciate that. Can I tell you something I haven't told anyone else? About why I was so upset over this whole break up?"

"Of course."

"I…" he inhaled to steady himself, "This may sound immature, but I lost my virginity to Arthur. I thought it was special to him, too, but I guess it wasn't…It shouldn't have hurt me so much, but it did. I always thought he was a good friend. Now, after what he's done, I can't be bothered with him."

I rubbed his tense shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve that."

"It's okay- there's someone out there for me. I just need to be patient. And look at you! You've made bounds and leaps in the dating field, and you didn't get too hung up on any of the guys. I should do the same."

"Well, I know that the one you find in the end will be worth it- you've just eliminated one more person that doesn't deserve you."

He smiled. "You really know how to make me feel better, Alex. Thank you."

This compliment made my mouth run dry- for what reason, I wasn't sure. I was happy that I could make Sadik feel good.

"Yeah…any time."

We hugged before I shuffled to my own bedroom. My body caught fire, despite the fact that it was negative ten degrees outside.

That night, I'd had a wet dream, though I couldn't remember what of. The next morning, I quietly cleaned my sheets and prayed that no one else would see me.

The next month heralded plenty of confusion and frustration for me. I began to question my feelings for Sadik- why I suddenly began to blush whenever he was around, why I had thoughts about kissing him, and why I felt horny after touching him. The more I pondered it, the more I loved the idea of being with him; my family adored Sadik, he was sweet and generous and intelligent, I found him handsome…it all did sound good. Sure, I worried that it meant I'd have to come out to my parents and that I'd face the struggles of an inter-national, interreligious relationship, but none of those fears seemed paramount compared with the idea of Sadik loving someone else, or of me being with anybody but him.

I took things slowly, not wanting to disrupt our friendship. I did small things to express my affection, like texting him "good morning!" from time to time and maintaining eye contact for longer than usual. Still, flirting didn't come naturally to me, and Sadik once asked me if I had a cold when I lowered the pitch of my voice while talking to him.

It was almost torturous for me, how oblivious he was to my small advances. However, on Valentine's day, I finally made some progress. The two of us got Starbucks and went to our magnolia tree and chatted for a while, and Sadik noticed dark circles under my eyes. Taking his gloves off, he touched the skin underneath them gingerly, meeting my gaze for what seemed curiously long. My lips burned and I wanted to kiss him; I drank my coffee, instead.

"You haven't been getting much sleep," he mused.

"I've been up late thinking lately…"

"Hmm…about someone?" His words were cautious.

I shrugged, too embarrassed to confess the truth. "I think so."

He patted my back, not pressing for further details, and began piling snow on my head. I merely raised an eyebrow, feeling assured that I couldn't help loving someone that built a snowman on my hair.

…

I visited Sadik's family that summer.

I felt immediately welcomed into their home. His parents and sister greeted me with warm hugs at the door, and the five of us drank coffee and laughed and ate plenty of food and stayed up late chatting. His family was so friendly- they showed me around Burbank and Los Angeles and the beaches of southern California. I sampled the local fare. (The burgers were exceptional, but the Italian food couldn't compare to that of Chicago.) I swam in the Pacific Ocean (It's colder than one would think!) and hiked at Vasquez rocks and shopped at the Americana in Glendale. I had never seen so many Armenians in my life…even when I'd lived in Yerevan!

An unspoken understanding had formed between Sadik and I- we had both changed in the way that we saw one another, and we knew this. Sadik's family even hinted that they thought I was his boyfriend. I was secretly thrilled by their insinuations, as it meant that they'd accept me even if I were his lover. And I wanted to be, so badly.

However, Sadik never made his move on me, which led me to doubt what I believed to be true. He claimed he had something to tell me, though- but that we needed to wait until we were back in Illinois for him to say it. I had never been so anxious to hear something in my life.

Finally, on one of the warmest nights of summer, we went to our magnolia tree and sat for what felt to be an hour. Sadik finally turned to me and, passion consuming his voice, began to speak.

"I've wanted to tell you this for quite some time, but I felt it would only be right to say it here. Alex, remember when we sat under this tree two years ago and you said that, out of the group, you'd most like to date me? Well… what if you did?" His eyes were pained, anxious for my answer. I smiled and overtook him with a tight hug.

"I think I'd be the happiest man alive." We kissed and my heart swelled. He cupped my face with his hands, his fingers gently holding me as our lips continued to touch. I looped my arms around his waist and wondered if it was worth it to ever let go.

…

After going steady with Sadik, I knew that I needed to tell my parents. We walked back to their house, hand in shaking hand, and my boyfriend tried to soothe my frazzled nerves. I didn't know how they would react, but I knew that I had to tell them. I owed it to Sadik.

As our feet hit the stone of the driveway, the two of us let go of one another. I stole one more kiss from Sadik, simply because I worried that we might never get their approval. We entered the house and found my parents drinking black tea in the living room. They offered us some, and we accepted, downing the bitter drink as if it would somehow make us braver.

"Mom, dad," I glanced at my parents and kept my breathing steady. "Can Sadik and I tell you something?"

My mom smiled knowingly. "I'm pretty sure it's not news to us, jan, but go ahead."

"It- um, it might shock you both…"

My dad shrugged. "I doubt it."

Sadik and I exchanged a glance, worried that they had no idea what I was about to say.

"O-okay…I'm in a relationship. With Sadik."

"And you just tell us this now?" My mother grinned, her eyes shining. "I thought you both had been together since your senior year of high school!"

Sadik and I blushed. "Oh- oh, no. We just started tonight…"

"Well, we appreciate your honesty. Alex, you have to have enough faith in us to know if our son is gay or not. It was surprising at first, but we got used to the idea. And Sadik, you should never feel afraid of us. As far as we're concerned, you're part of our family," my dad offered congenially. I was thrilled to have their blessings and equally excited to tell Hova the good news. I nearly went deaf from her shrieks when she found out.

…

Going into my junior year of college, Sadik had already graduated. We moved into an apartment off-campus together, along with a few other friends. It was nice to have my own space- Sadik and I shared a small bedroom and a cheap IKEA bed. While he worked assiduously on his master's and credential, I focused my studies on chemistry. Both of us were busy, and with the dawn of our adult lives, we didn't have as much time to party and relax as we'd have liked. But that was okay- we were getting closer to meeting our dreams, and we had each other. After a long day, we'd curl up in bed and murmur, already half-asleep, and remind ourselves of what we were working so hard for.

One night during my senior year, Sadik asked me if I would marry him after graduating. I had never thought I'd marry so young, but I knew that I had nothing to worry about with Sadik. We were both pragmatic- we didn't need lots of sex (at that point, we hadn't had any) or earth-shattering passion or romantic getaways. We were content to simply hold hands and dance and go on walks, especially to our tree. Of course, I let Sadik know that I would have to find a stable internship and get accepted into a graduate school program before even thinking of wedding plans. He understood.

Having gone to a private university, I was fortunate enough to have good connections. I started an internship at Abbot Laboratories the summer after my graduation. Due to my independent research projects at Northwestern, they gave me a grant to enter into a doctorate's program there, completely free of charge. That summer, Sadik finished his master's program and earned his credential; I was so proud of him, to be done with his education and ready to work full-time. A local junior high school hired him to teach American history. It wasn't his preferred gig- he wanted to teach high school- but he had a wonderful time, nonetheless. His students loved him, as well. Whenever any of them saw us out and about, they'd flock to "Mr. Adnan" and chat excitedly with him. As cheesy as it sounds, it warmed my heart to know that he was so good with children.

Our wedding was wonderful. We held the ceremony in the campground by our magnolia tree; a Liberal Catholic* priest and an Imam performed the services for us. Apparently, though some interpret the Bible to be anti-gay marriage, there is nothing in the Qur'an that speaks against two men marrying one-another. Sadik looked _very_ good in a suit. We danced and chatted and ate (it wouldn't be a proper Near Eastern wedding without a mountain of food) and drank bitter coffee that one of my elderly relatives read our fortune out of. She interpreted the grounds to mean that we would have a happy marriage. I knew that she was right.

Sadik and I dedicated toasts to one-another at the wedding. His was so moving that it made my sister cry. Hova always was a bit sappy.

"Alex," he began, smiling in that blissful way that I loved so much. "I met you here about five years ago. I was lonely- many of my friends had gone home for the summer, and I couldn't see my family until the next year. I was sad- I had just been broken up with. For some reason that I can only describe as an utter blessing, I found myself driving in a town close to Chicago, to a campground with an enormous tree. I sat under that tree and wondered if I'd ever feel truly at home; I'd yet to meet someone that I could call my 'best friend,' and I spent much of my time working and studying. Then, I saw this shadow moving towards the tree. It was a seventeen-year-old, not a boy yet not a man, just like me. He sat on the other side of the tree, a blush apparent on his face even in the darkness. He sighed, and after a few minutes, he introduced himself to me. He was you.

"For some reason- I can only guess that the both of us felt misunderstood- we began talking about why we didn't feel right. You had just gone on a blind date and felt ashamed. You didn't fully understand yourself yet, and you just wanted to make everyone else happy. At that moment, you didn't understand how happy you already made everybody.

"I didn't fully understand myself either, which is why I think we became friends. In talking to you, I solidified my views, changed others, and gained a new perspective. You had a great understanding of the world- of history and politics and humanities. I found that captivating. The first night I met you, I already knew that I liked you and hoped to someday be more than just friends.

"Of course, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, so I never said anything. I enjoyed the time we spent together and never expected anything more. After all, it was nice just talking to you, just spending time with you. Over the next year, you really came into your own. You had gained unshakeable confidence, but you were never immodest. It was really refreshing to see. And so, with you going into college, I was thrilled that we'd both be northwestern students. Still, I felt that it wasn't fair to myself to only like you when I could never be sure that you'd feel the same way, so I began to date other people and even got into a relationship. That didn't end very well, but you consoled me and encouraged me through something that struck a heavy blow. I was disillusioned, as I always felt I could trust people around me, especially my close friends. Thankfully, with you, I remembered that I still could.

"I remember when you began to see me differently. It was after you had begun to think about relationships- you'd dated a few people and started considering long-term romance. I remember being shocked when you started texting me 'good morning!' every few days, and how you became really fastidious about your appearance whenever I was around. Not that you needed to be- you could look amazing wearing plaid and polka dots. We went to California to visit my parents, and I was anxious to tell you how I felt- but I couldn't. I had to be sure, because I didn't want to strain our friendship. I think it was when we went to the beach together and you hugged me, complaining that you were 'cold,' that I knew I could confess. Still, I wanted to say it in the right place, so we waited until we could sit under the magnolia tree. This one.

"We don't always get enough time to spend with one-another, but that's okay. Every second I spend with you makes up for an hour lost. We both have our own interests and friends, but I love the fact that we can just as easily go out for a movie or count the stars as you can work in the lab or I in the classroom. I love singing along while you play guitar or listening to you serenade me with your flute. And we always have such fun, whether it's by baking cookies or singing along loudly to the music in the market- and subsequently getting kicked out.

"I love the traditions you've introduced into my life- eating pomegranates after dinner and singing Christmas carols. I also love that I can share my traditions with you; you're so open-minded, whether it's in celebrating Eid-al-Fitr or hanging nazar beads in your car.

"When I look at you, I see so much more than a five-foot-seven man with black hair and brown eyes and a beautiful smile; I see the man that plays Milli Vanilli out his car window and knows all the lyrics to 'Jeyran Bala.' I see the man that glues googley-eyes to sea shells and buys his cologne in bulk. I see the man that doesn't normally get swept up in emotion; but when he does, it's fascinating. I see the man that knows the difference between 'Ampicillin' and 'Ampicin.' I see the man that doesn't care what someone is; he sees _who_ someone is. One never realizes how important that is, or how hard it is to do, until tested.

"It's hard to find a word to describe you, but it would be foolish not to use 'passionate' as one of them. You're easygoing, to be sure, but there are so many things you love. Music, your friends and family, nature, God, culture, travel, your job, your life. Passion is present in everything you do. However, I also feel that the words 'intelligent,' 'kind,' 'courteous,' and 'quirky'- quirky in the most wonderful of ways, in the way that heightens your entire personality- do the trick.

"I'm not someone that claims to be a romantic- the idea of a 'soul mate' seems silly to me. However, I am more certain of this than anything else: I was destined to meet you, and if I was destined to meet you, it only follows that I met you for the purpose of someday loving you, as well.

"I have so much to look forward to. A family, a home, a romance, and a friendship. And I couldn't be more excited. You know, there's a Stevie Wonder song called 'I Was Made to Love Her,' in which he claims 'our love grows sweeter every day.' I couldn't agree more…so thank you."

Maybe I had something in my eyes as well…though I would never admit it to anybody.

…

Sadik stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my hips and burying his forehead in the crook of my neck. He murmured into my shoulder.

"You made me wait, you know." He smiled against my skin, running his thumb over my knuckles.

"You mean all these years, or the extra two days after the wedding?"

"The extra two days. Though it's understandable- it's weird to have sex when everyone's _thinking _about you having sex. I'm a little paranoid about stuff like that, myself."

I grinned. "I'll make it worth your while."

"You'll wear a belly-dancer costume to bed?" He smirked.

"Mm, no. I'm afraid I don't look good in sequins."

Sadik laughed. "Okay. Well, um…when do you want to do this?"

My face heated pink. "Um…how about I set up the room?" I was referring to the bedroom in our new condo on the northern side of Chicago. "I have a few things I want to place in there."

"All right. I took the liberty of making a 'mood music' playlist on my phone- a little bit of smooth jazz and the like. If you want, we can plug it into the radio."

"Sure. Should I set out some champagne?"

"None for me- can I have a water? I'm going to shower."

"Water for both of us, then." I kissed him. "I've already washed up. Go get clean, jan."

He nodded, walking away. "I smell like coffee grounds!" Sadik wailed melodramatically.

"That might or might not be a fetish of mine!" I called after him, grinning.

I found a bag in my suitcase that held two fresh magnolia blossoms. Their sweet perfume permeated the air as I opened the bag- they were from our tree. I set the flowers on the nightstand and plugged Sadik's Android into the radio's jack. The jazz was good; sultry and yearning; and the fall air rained soggy leaves and hail. I drew the blinds, their rose hue bright against the creamy walls. I poured two glasses of water in the kitchen and set them on the glass table in our bedroom. Still, I needed to find something to wear…I ransacked my side of the closet, unsure of what to dress myself in. I didn't want to seem garish, but I did want to look good. I took pride in appearing put-together.

Which is why I couldn't believe I yielded to such a ridiculous idea.

My grandmother had given Sadik and me a few traditional Armenian outfits- all of which she had sewn herself- as our wedding gift. I seized one from my suitcase, feeling the gold-leaf and smooth silk of the vest. I knew fully well how weird it was, to try to seduce my husband in folk clothing. That didn't stop me.

Stitched into the white and gold fabric on the back of the vest was a single tree surrounded by snow, its rose bark lined in gold and a single heart etched in its trunk. It was beautiful. I clothed myself, waiting anxiously for Sadik to join me on the bed. Restless, I began to pace and wiped my forehead of clammy sweat. Finally, I settled on the couch, gulping down my iced water and steadying my shaking knees.

A knock sounded. "Come in!" I called, finding myself short of breath. I simply gulped down more water.

Sadik opened the door and gawked- I wasn't sure if this was good or bad. "…Hi."

I maintained composure, reminding myself that Sadik once told me I'd look good "in plaid and polka dots." Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I smiled. "Hi, yourself."

He laughed, a nervous reaction. "I- um, heh…oh, fuck, I've messed this up. I'm sorry- I'm just nervous. Can we start over?"

I laughed as well. "Don't worry about it; I am too. Let's go again."

He exited the room and knocked on the door again.

"Come in!" I cried in an over-the-top falsetto. Sadik did, doubling over.

"Aha, that's- ffff- that's not fair! Ahaha, oh God…"

"You-hehe- you brought this on yourself."

"I can't- baha- I can't stop laughing! I'm such a dork! Haha…" He calmed himself, taking deep breaths. "Okay, I'm good. I'm good. Can I try one more time?"

"Of course. Nice pajamas, by the way." Sadik wore a black tank-top and green bottoms. He grinned.

"Nice…oh gosh, I don't know what that's called, but you look so sexy in it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really. I have a thing for traditional outfits."

"I'll keep that in mind. Wanna wear yours?"

"I have one, too? Wow, yes. I'd love to."

"Here," I found his in my suitcase and tossed it over.

"Great. I'll get dressed outside. Take three!"

After another moment, he knocked on the door. I opened it for him.

_"Ayo?"_

He kissed my cheek. _"Merhaba."_

"You have more to say to me than 'hi,' don't you?" I teased, resting my hands on the small of his back.

"Maybe. I'm not very articulate in front of attractive men."

"I'm sure you can find another way to get your point across." We kissed, and he scooped me up from the ground underneath my knees.

"Am I your bride?" I laughed.

"No," he answered seriously, "but you looked like you could use a 'pick-me-up!' Ba-dum-pshh." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Oh, Lord, we're never getting to bed at this rate." I smiled, caressing his prickly jaw.

"You're right, oops. Hey, wanna pick me up?"

"Why not?" He set me down, and I placed one arm underneath his thighs. "Will you push off the ground?"

"Sure." I strained my back, trying to hold my now six-foot-two husband. Still, I was stronger than I seemed, and it wasn't too great of a struggle to support his weight.

"How on earth do you do this, Alex?"

I winked. "I'll go to great lengths to touch your ass."

"You and the rest of my suitors…"

"Hmm, me and the rest of Chicago. Too bad you're mine!" I kissed the crook of his knees through the silk fabric. "All mine…"

"Well, while I'm trapped, wanna set me down on the couch?"

"Yeah. I'm feeling charitable."

"Glad to know you'll share me with a piece of furniture." We embraced again. His breath tasted like mint toothpaste and coffee grounds.

"Mm…Sadik, you're delicious."

He exhaled, a staccato breath. "It's a good thing we're going to make love, or I'd have a big problem."

I looked at his lap. "A huge problem." We sat up on the loveseat, sipping our waters and listening to smooth jazz.

"Oh, I have a present for you." I stood, plucking the magnolia blossoms from the nightstand. I tucked one behind Sadik's ear, and he did so with mine as well.

"It's like we're honeymooning in Hawaii."

"Exactly!"

"It's beautiful, Alex. You're beautiful. Here, I actually have something for you, too." He took a book from the shelf beside us and sat down again. "I kept this diary in college…I'm not the best at staying up to date, but I figured you'd want to read it later. There's a lot about you in there."

I took the golden book, thick with knife-cut pages. "Thank you…wow, I really treasure this." I set it aside, a warm feeling spreading from my core. "This is good jazz."

He nodded. "It is. Uh, we can always turn it off for…yeah. I just thought it might be nice to relax to beforehand."

"It's lovely…you play piano in this piece, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh- yeah. This is a composition. Wanna know what it's called?"

"Tell me."

He grinned. "It's an homage to your birthplace- the rhythm is set to the meter of Saroyan's poem, 'Armenia.' I call it 'Yerevan.'"

"That's-" I could nearly hear the poem spoken, "that's brilliant, Sadik…wow, how did I get such a talented husband?"

"How did I get you?" He pressed his forehead to mine. "You're really sweaty."

"Aw, you must tell that to _all_ the girls!"

"Only the sweaty ones."

"We're stalling so badly! I think I take the prize for 'most awkward loss of virginity.'"

"At least we're laughing, though. I was scared shitless when I slept with Arthur, and he refused to have sex without drinking some bourbon first- not enough to get drunk or anything, but still. He smelled like a liquor store. But you smell amazing…" He leaned in, his lips so close to mine that his breath tickled them. "I'll stop stalling, I promise."

"Thank _God_!" I closed the space between us. "I want to make love with you before I turn thirty, if possible."

His large hand clasped mine while his other one trailed my side. I leaned back on the couch, allowing for him to do the majority of the work. I wanted to be surrounded by Sadik- I wanted us to be so close that we couldn't tell where his skin began and mine ended.

"Tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable," he cautioned. I silenced him with my lips.

"Don't worry if I wince a little. I promise to tell you if the pain gets too bad."

"I want a pinky-promise on that."

We locked little fingers. "Got it. Now keep kissing me."

…

We had to wait a year to afford our honeymoon, but it was worth it. We stayed in Chile. Remember how Sadik and I once used to talk about the mating rituals of parrots? That was a tangent from a conversation about how much we wanted to explore the Chilean landscape. We got the chance to, and it was one of the best adventures I'd had.

Sadik is now a high school American History teacher; I'm now a pharmacist at a hospital. I get to wake up next to him every morning. We share strong coffee and hold hands and play songs together. Whenever I'm cold, Sadik gives me one of his electrifying hugs. I couldn't even imagine that happiness like this was possible.

We have a happy, warm home in the outskirts of Chicago. We have a beautiful daughter named Anasheh, who we gave birth to with a surrogate mother. She is biologically mine, but she takes after Sadik with her ever-optimistic outlook and playful personality. Sadik claims she's the most wonderful thing to ever happen to him, and I agree. However, we also hope to have another child with his genetics, and to adopt as well.

Sometimes, on cool spring nights, I can't help but reminisce. And so, every once in a while, we walk back to the magnolia tree and remember the boys that slept underneath its sturdy limbs.

…


End file.
